The man out of time, walking in silence along the lines.
Parallel as we all travel.
Problems inherited of decades old.

As the "out-of-place" mind progresses and becomes blackened,
he slowly becomes adjacent to reality.
Only through a kindred spirit can we find perspective.

No latency, no compounding mixtures; of facades,
or gut-wrenching quarrels of hatred and jealousy
in which are succeeded only by none.

As the man is fixed upon the stars, he only can wonder;
of what could have been and what was.
Through the eyes of the greatest beast can we feel chances of grace,
and grimace.

When the problems of our fathers' and mothers' draw near.
Conflict grows stronger between the epicenter and our devotion.
Will we truly be able to justify our existence?

The man, in the end, has to deal with crossing the river.
Looking for shadows that are under the skin of the water,
while guiding through life with no reference to measure.
Truth becomes a blur, only readable by love and spirit.

Primal tendencies come fleeting.
The most logical apparatus in nature,
yet senses are first to be culled.

Something of a storm, striking without warning.
Kindling becomes flame, growing wildly.
Praying to be ignited, grieving to be forged.
It's seemingly pointless to resist.
You give in, and it's something terrible.

Humanitarian virtues completely ignored.
As the fire swells, oceans of flame erupt your belly.
Brilliantly orange the aura lurks around you.
Intoxicated visions become reality.
Blindly you roll around, lunacy takes hold.

As your hand made into a calloused fist, you feel
benevolent without self doubt, yet ageless with strength.
Striking the name, even god himself -
had he shown toe to toe with your flame.
You now burn with stalwart devotion,
you cut deep down somewhere near integrity,
yet so blindly.

Ventricles of youth gaze upon you.
Ludacris with insanity, your veins boil with red justice.
The ancient tendencies foster the child inside.
Your calloused hands shake with no disease,
only a pumping chest.

In a instance, you awake.
Never dreaming, but never truly away.
Dizzily, whispers of morality soothe the skin.
Recalling the love for humanity, and logic.
A chill breaks the mold.
You realize what you've become.